Posted by Anonymous on 2010/12/09 under Uncategorized To anyone here whose ever felt they don’t belong; Truth is, be it me that says it; you probably don’t. Ohh, how cynical, you say. Why do we feel we must belong somewhere? Why do we always feel that there must be someone, somewhere, exactly like us? Or kinda like us, at least. In fear of sounding conceited I’ll say it anyway; I feel no one is like me. I feel right now as I sit here listening to music louder than I know I should in the darkness the night time allows me to become engulfed with, the glow from the screen before me my only light, that no one in this world, or any other for that matter, is anything like myself. Yet, there’s that annoying part of me still holding within it that optimistic nature that wants so badly to belong as it screams through my walls that there must be somewhere I do. Even if there was, I’d never come to find out. The kinds of things that I’m looking to find within others as to not feel so damn alone aren’t the kinds of things written onto someone’s face, nor in the words they speak. I don’t think they could be formed into audible words, nor written ones. This thing I’m looking for within others is more like a particular imprint within the metaphorical part of their heart. Now tell me. How the f*** am I not only supposed to find that in another, but firstly, within myself? I’ve no clue where to search for that kind of thing. It’s something I feel, not something I can explain to another in hope of them saying that they are somewhat similar in such respect. I’ve found that one can change so much about themselves. Their hair. Their style. Their friends. Everything one seems to be. However, I’ve come to find it’s the things one cannot change that make all the difference. Their opinions. Their beliefs. Their emotions. Everything one has to fight to be. Also, it seems to be that no matter how much one does try to change those things they can’t, it all comes back to the beginning in the end. Quite frankly, that confuses me. It’s as if we each have a default setting. We know it, even if we don’t show it, or speak it, or write it, etc. It’s the kind of thing that’s pretty easy to hide from another if you’d be willing to lie to yourself. Why are we always trying to lie to ourselves in vain? I mean, how pointless does it all seem. Ohh, that’s right. To feel we belong somewhere. To act it, at least. There’s got to be some kind of thrill gained from it. I fear I may do something I wouldn’t normally do just to rid myself of the static I’m currently stuck with. Just to feel I belong somewhere in a crowd of people that actually do. How long can I trick myself into believing falsely of things I’ve already formed opinions on? I think I’m slowly losing myself. I’m trying so hard to get her back, but she’s not liking it. Not one bit. I feel I’m becoming superfluous. Just another carbon copy, as they say. I worry to a great extent that I won’t leave an imprint as I depart for that unknown land, that nothing will have changed by my presence on this world. I feel that perhaps it would have been easier for Mother Nature, and all the rest, if I’d just not have existed in the first place. I’m not sure why that makes me suicidal, but my inner monologue is telling me so. I told it to shut the f*** up. For now I think I’ll take comfort in that I’m able to find parts of me within lyrics written by others. These people write to get payed. It’s their job. That disheartens my view of it all, but, it’s something. It’s a little hope that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as alone as I feel. If someone’s written it then someone’s felt it, too.